In soccer I was a defensive player, ain’t no one getting to my goal (okay, I wasn’t that good – but I tried). But in life, I’ve seemed to be on the offensive lately.

Moving to Greenville was a big moment for me. I was moving to a place where I didn’t know anyone and I’d have to make a whole new set of friends. This wasn’t scary, I was out going and even though he was long distance, Joel as my boyfriend gave me some confidence that I’d at least have someone other than my mom to text.

And it went really well. I made a ton of friends – some closer than others, but I had people to do things with when I needed them. Again, the long distance boyfriend helped because he was visiting me or I was visiting him to fill up a lot of weekends and netflix to fill up the weeknights. Greenville was also full of people like me who were new to town and looking for friends, so community get togethers for people new to town were common.

But when I got engaged, I dropped completely off the Greenville social map because I’d be leaving soon anyways. I was interacting with my bridesmaids constantly about the wedding so that filled my thoughts and my calendar.

Once I moved to Montgomery my whole life shifted. It was me and Joel against the world. Apparently only me and Joel, and the world didn’t seem to be bothered too much. I experienced a kind of loneliness I’d never encountered before…

I guess I should have been expecting major life change after getting married and all. There are awesome things about marrying an introvert, but moving to a town where he had lived for a year and a half to find out that he had no real community yet was not something I was expecting. He was happy with his social interactions and he loved the people around him, but he didn’t feel the need to reach out for time with others. As the extroverted one in the relationship the was hard. I wanted people around. I needed a group of local friends.

Luckily Joel was set up for success as the husband of someone who needed people, because I found my way in from one of his work connections into a great bible study. Almost all of my relationships to people our age have been made through this group. But it was different. It had been going for a while, and I felt like the newbie. For the very first time in my life I was the outsider. No one knew me or even seemed like they wanted to get to know me.

Or so it felt. Little did I know at the time that a lot of those people had just joined themselves. Sure, some were Montgomery natives, most had other social connections that brought them together, but these women were nothing but welcoming. It was my view of every interaction that was distorted.

Honestly, I’ve met some Reginas here in Montgomery. I’ve had interactions were the cold shoulder wasn’t completely in my head. Where a little manipulation was probably at play. But not nearly as many of the times that I thought something was going on, was there actually something going on. And someone may view my actions in a negative light, and I’m so sorry if I’ve treated someone with anything but warmth.

I’ve let the lack of an invitation break me down to tears. I’ve let the curt conversations keep me up at night. I’ve over and over again chosen to be offended or hurt by snap chats or instagrams of “everybody having fun without me” as if it were intentional.

In reality I’m the queen of the “we should hang out!!!” and never following through. Constantly waiting on others to invite me. I’m waiting on my engraved invitation that should say “I really do want to be your friend!” instead of reaching out to others who I’m suddenly realizing are in the same position.

I was frozen by rejection. I was stuck in an offensive state. I was lacking in understanding.

I’ve never had to work to have friends before. But I realize adulthood can fly by unless you reach out to others. We aren’t in classes 8 hours a day together. I’m not passing people in the hall and throwing a note in their direction. If I wanted to go days without speaking to anyone, it wouldn’t be difficult. I’ve never wanted that, but I’ve let myself fall into this pattern of loneliness because I haven’t made an effort. I’ve expected others to find a way to fit me into their busy schedules, without making room on my own.

So today the offense stops. Today I’m going to be joyful about every interaction I’m blessed with and I’m going to put in the work to bless others with time and attention. (Hopefully not in a creepy way, I’m going to try and not be offended if you tell me to leave you alone, I’ll understand!) Let’s be real friends!

Please no one read into this discussion of loneliness as a lack of something in my marriage. Joel and I are great, and I truly married my best friend. My first post Blogs are the Best  explains my views on this subject of “me” versus “we” in a little more detail.

We’ve been back in the house for a while now, and almost completely unpacked. We keep finding boxes of socks or books so I’m starting to think moving boxes have a Toy Story like quality to them and are coming to life when we’re not around.

Joel and I have felt so in limbo with all the house stuff. But that excuse is almost played out. We’ve got to get back to living our lives, but because it’s been April since anything was “normal”, I’ve forgotten how. I’m not a very spontaneous person and I like to pretend I’ve got it together by scheduling out my life.

But somehow I still never get everything done, and I’ve been thinking to myself, “I’m too busy!” I’m too busy to blog. I’m too busy to put away the laundry. I’m too busy to take a walk. I’m too busy reach out to a friend. I don’t know what the heck I’m busy doing. BUT I’M TOO BUSY.

I’ve read several blogs about saying no. I’ve seen the inspirational tweets about how you have permission from someone you’ve never met to give yourself a well deserved break. And these are the things I tell myself when I get home, take my pants off and marathon  Stranger Things  on Netflix..

But in reality the world moves on. And I don’t want it to leave me behind. I’ve got to stop saying no to things things that would be good for me, or good for someone else just because I’m “too busy”. I’ve got to get out of this mentality that I deserve time to be a blob with my BFFs Ben and Jerry. I’ve got to realize that I have just as much time in the day as everyone else. Shockingly, God gave Obama and I the same 24 hours in a day.

I need a perspective shift on the way I’m looking at my time, it’s a limited but equally distributed resource. Stress on the other hand isn’t a necessity, but is stealing my precious hours. I’ve got to say yes to getting stuff done, and no to stressing over it. I’m spending far too much time worrying about what people will think of what I do, and it’s stopping me from getting anything done.

Instead of turning the TV on when I get home and plopping down, I’m going to turn on a podcast and get chores done. Instead of mindlessly scrolling through Facebook, I’m going to actually call a friend and hear what’s going on with them besides the social media worthy stuff. Instead of grabbing that bag of chips, I’m going to take Dobs on a walk instead.

This doesn’t mean I’m not ever going to watch TV, get on social media, or eat chips again. It means that I’m shifting my focus to other things first. I’ve got to reset my defaults. I’ve decided that they worst part of the regular day job life is the monotony of the weeks. Large chunk of time go by without recognition, and that’s unacceptable. “Seize the day” and all, but more importantly I’m a happier person when I have something to show for my time, instead of sadly spending my day staring at my phone.

I’ve let job changes, house crises, and weight gain control how I react to the world, and I’ve just been along for the ride. No more. Resetting my focus, resetting my defaults, resetting, probably most importantly, my attitude.

Focus is the difference between falling and falling with style.

Let me preface this by saying I am not pregnant! Don’t even think it!

We spent this past weekend in my hometown of Decatur. I don’t know if I’m so nostalgic right now because the end my parents’ time of calling Decatur “home” is on the horizon or because it’s already August of 2016 and I’m not sure where the time went.

I got to thinking about my dad this weekend. His birthday was Friday and I happened to mention how old he was turning. He stopped, sighed and went, “wow that sounds old” and then, because he’s Joe, he giggled. He’s warned me multiple times over the past decade of my life that you never really feel older. Your body feels older, sure, but sometimes he completely forgets he isn’t in his 20’s and actually has three kids that are! We turned out alright if I say so myself. John’s a lawyer, I’m on the way to becoming an architect, and Tanner is a pilot in the Air Force. We all have wonderful spouses that each bring something completely different to the table (literally the dinner table around holidays.. so much fun now!)

My parents did a great job in raising us, and I’m constantly racking my brain for memories on how they did it. I mean, we can’t even get Dobby to behave, how are we going to deal with a kid? I know a child will eventually learn to speak back to us, which will help. Actually – if my own childhood was any indication, I’m sure my parents would have preferred it if I didn’t become so vocal! And while of course I remember  being taught that “early is on time, and on time is late” [ Which does not apply to college parties, and I looked lame on a couple of occasions]. Some other, vivid,  memories of “course correcting” lessons that I received reluctantly and with a restriction or two attached are burned into my brain as well. But I think the most important impression that my parents left is that they really love us.

I don’t mean in a way when I was 13 I thought love was shown. I wasn’t given everything I asked for, or allowed to do whatever I wanted. But I knew my parents loved me. I knew that no matter what I did, or tried to get away with doing, they were going to love me despite the fact that they may not like me right then.

.And that is comfort and security. That has shaped me in more ways then I will ever know. And it’s affected my relationship with God. I’ve had no trouble in seeing that God loves me unconditionally and with open arms, because I was lucky enough to have an earthly father who showed that example. I’m definitely getting sappy here, but I have the best parents, and I don’t let them know that enough.

My parents never tried being the cool parents, they were parents first. They were coaches and fans. They were Sunday school teachers and PTA parents. They brought flowers to the opening night of my plays. They showed up when they could. My soccer team could always pick my mom out in the away crowds – she was not only yelling the loudest, but to this day my friends remember me calling her the “burnt marshmallow” in her black puffy jacket – affectionately, I swear mom. They daily expressed that we were important to them.

Thank the Lord this was never Sherry.

One summer during college, my dad was preaching while our pastor was out of town. We all happen to be home that weekend and were in the second row, per usual. My dad starts the sermon off with something along the lines of “I was terrified of being a parent. I really didn’t know if I even wanted kids.” As you can imagine, this took his three kids by surprise. He then goes on to say we ended up being alright, which was nice and all. But that first part has stuck with me. I’m terrified of being a parent. I’m selfish and narcissistic and lazy. And I’ve never seen those qualities in my parents. But as my dad has told me through the years, you kinda figure it out anyways as long as you try. I’ll learn and grow as my kids learn and grow. Now my dad really likes us (I’m pretty sure at least..) and having adult children seems like the most fun part of having kids to me, and seeing how much they love their granddaughter (my niece) is so much fun.

So as mine and Joel’s two year anniversary is coming up and we’re already starting to get the “when will y’all have little ones of your own” questions, I try not to freak out. It’s going to be a while, but if and when it happens I’ve got great examples (Joel’s parents could not love him more either!) of how to love my kids the right way, and pray for the rest to work out!

If that’s all it takes, Joel and I are ready today. Our pantry looks like we already have children.

My parents listed their house for sale not too long ago. We’ve lived in that house since I was 2ish. It’s all I remember.

With everything going on at my Montgomery home right now I’m feeling a lot of feelings about my Decatur home being on the market.

That house is great. But the memories are better. In highschool, our house was definitely the hang out spot. My brothers and I had to schedule for time on the weekends to see who’s friends would get to take over the basement. From the big TV, mini fridge, and comfy couches to the ample street parking – Jessie Drive was a great spot for teenagers.

Classic fun in the basement.

I still talk to friends and coworkers about the house in Decatur as if I still live there. “My house – um I mean my parents’ house” is a sentence starter I’ve used more than once. It’s going to be weird when it’s not their house anymore.

It really makes me think a lot about where I’m living now. What memories will come out of our little Montgomery home? We’ve already made some great ones, but the tree through the ceiling made some not so great ones.

We’re still unpacking boxes. We slept last Wednesday for the first time in our own bed in over a month. It didn’t quite live up to expectations. Not only did we get rather used to the king sized bed in the hotel – going down to a full was quite the adjustment – but we also realized that after the ordeal of finding our sheets and making the bed that our memory foam mattress was upside down and rather hard. We slept on it anyway – I was not remaking that bed!

We’ve had to miss a lot of work lately for various construction related things, Joel most of all since he’s so close and also because he has a much better temperament for dealing with upsetting news.

So when I received a call that our couch would be delivered Friday, I was pumped but upset that the time slot we were given was the morning. More work missed. But Thursday night we got a nice surprise, they could deliver it in 15 minutes if we were there – and we were!

Now  you might remember me mentioning before that Dobby had to go back to the vet after ripping his neuter incision open..[gross].

Well he still had his cone on until Saturday and we couldn’t give him a real bath until it was off. Brand new couch+stinky dog does not equal a happy Katelyn. So we found blankets and covered our beautiful new sofa in Joel’s childhood wolf blankets (I don’t know what else to call them.. fleece blankets with pictures of wolves and wolf packs on them – yes, I said blanketS. He has several). Not the best scenario for feeling “moved in” but at least we had a place to sit.

And all this and the hundreds of boxes aside, they’re still not completely done. Men I don’t know are still coming and going from my house. I’m ready to have my life back. But I am extremely grateful. God had our backs through this whole thing. USAA has been absolutely amazing. And not to mention we got that hole fixed in our ceiling where Joel had stepped through on the day the water heater broke.

Joel and I have gone through a lot in the past 2 months. It’s weird to think about now – but looking back this was definitely the most stressful time of our relationship. And I’m grateful for that as well, because a lot of couples we know have way worse “worse time of our relationship” stories. Our’s is we had to live in a 2 room suite for a month. I think we’ll bounce back.

These will be memories – not all great, mostly ironically funny, but still memories of our first home. But as annoying as it was, I’m so glad that I’ve got a fantastic husband by my side and as people kept telling me “it could have been worse”.

Last night a friend came over to grab some boxes, and we got him to stay for dinner. That’s what I love most about being back home. My house was a disaster, we had to move a weight set off of the dining room table so we had a place to eat, but we could have a friend over for a meal and conversation. I’ve felt isolated in our little hotel bubble, and hosting someone for dinner even among the boxes made it all rush back why I love having a place to call home. I’m truly grateful for our home sweet home, and looking forward to the memories we’re going to make moving forward.

Podcast Recommendation Day is here! (Still working on a catchy name..)

 Nerdist

Nerdist is long form interviews between host Chris Hardwick (the Talking Dead guy, kinda looks like Ryan Seacrest mixed with Chris Harrison) interviewing just about every movie star you can think up and some musicians too.

There are over 800 episodes by now. Some people they talk to more than once, some people I had no idea who they were but love them by the end of the show and have now watched their movies/heard their songs/binged their TV shows.

In such a “sound bite” culture it’s great to hear from these people who are such a part of pop culture for a long time. You almost feel like you know them by the end of the talk – and sometimes it’s shocking how awesome these people are.

Most episodes are about an hour of super minimally edited, raw conversation. Chris can be a little annoying. He’s pretty full of himself and and a bit of a “one upper”. And once you’ve heard several of the episodes he’ll get a little repetitive with some personal stories – I don’t blame him for this, he’s the one constant of 800 episodes with almost 800 different people – of course he repeats himself with different people. But the conversations almost always leave me with a little truth nugget from these super successful people.

There are too many favorite episodes to share just a few. These episodes stand completely on their own, so scroll through the feed and pick out someone you’ve always admired. They do cuss in these, so watch out for little ears – nothing too over the top most of the time though.

FYI – they always end the podcast the same way, with the phrase “Enjoy your burrito” – there is a story behind that – but I’ll let you find that episode on your own! Happy Podcasting!

Taylor Swift was awarded the first Taylor Swift Award this week. And that got me thinking..

We all know who Taylor Swift is now.. but will we remember her in 50 years? I think so, I think that she’s one of those people who will be remembered by society for a long time. But I’ve never thought about it before. We just never know who is going to make it long term. We don’t know what legacy anyone will leave.

I hope Tswizzle keeps her awesome reputation and lives a life in the spot light and free from scandal. I hope she’s able to keep creating and recreating herself into new and exciting and timeless versions of herself. I remember seeing her at Big Spring Jam back in her county days. We were both 16 and awkward as hell (she came out rapping to “Lose Yourself” with a hoodie on over a tutu. For Shame).

But look at us both now…

I’m not comparing myself to Taylor Swift. I was once told that my singing reminded someone of a dying cow. My mother actually leaned over to me in church and told me “God is the only one who needs to hear you sing” – shocking to my middle school self (I was probably being obnoxious, I don’t recall the circumstances, just the Sherbear classic comment) and hilarious to my now “grown up” self.

My fifth grade boyfriend and local genius has an award named after him at our high school. Now that’s smart – but will people remember the man or just be reminded of the name? He is a great dude, and I am not humble enough to not think I’m alright too – but sometimes I worry about the way people remember me. I texted my best friend the other day upset because I remembered I told a guy I couldn’t go to prom with him (I already had another date – I swear!) and I was worried I might have come off in a bad way. Joel jokingly says that I might have been a bully in highschool. I don’t think that’s my high school legacy (some one let me know if it is and I will whole heartily apologize) but sometimes I worry…

I hope that one day I can leave a good, long lasting legacy. I don’t know what for yet. I don’t want anything named after me – people never pronounce Wasser correctly anyways (Sidebar: incase anyone is wondering.. it’s the German word for water – so just start saying water and switch words in the middle. It is NOT way-sir. It’s wah-sir.)

But I do want to make a mark on the world. I want people to remember me. I think we all do. But I want to be remembered the way that I want Taylor Swift to be remembered – with my reputation intact. Hopefully I’ll be remembered for leading someone to Christ. That’s the ultimate legacy in my opinion.

So this was a spiraling extensional crisis based on a Taylor Swift Instagram post. It happens to me sometimes. Working on my goals– slow and steady wins the race – is leading me in the direction I want to go. I’m excited about the future – for both me and Taylor Swift.